


Loving Elio in you

by Imaginaryparisienne



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Celebrities, Flower Crowns, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Smut, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 01:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20249569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaginaryparisienne/pseuds/Imaginaryparisienne
Summary: So there were a some time ago a flower crown social media trend. I don’t know whether it’s a symbolic meaning behind it, but I always like to imagine Timothee or Elio (or Laurie!) in flower crown on his head. The strange (rather dirty) thoughts start to go through my head then lol. And with these thoughts came up this one-shot. I hope you like it!





	Loving Elio in you

**Armie’s POV**

You sit at the desk, back to me, one leg partially crossed over the other, staring at the laptop screen. You twiddle your thumbs and swing on the chair. Oh Tim, did your mom never tell you that’s a bad habit? And more importantly, don't you learn from your own hilarious mistakes? I watch with a smile as your back bends and straightens when you fidget like a kid in a boring lesson. From time to time, you run your fingers through the untidy mop of hair, then your hand goes to your sunburned neck and stays there for a while. Oh boy… I want to lick the taste off your skin. That taste which I myself named, “Promise of Summer”. It would be your own fragrance. I look at the book in my hand. Well, yeah, I was going to read, but I’m stuck watching you.

“So, what’s something interesting you learned about yourself on the Internet?” I interrupt the silence, but you only vaguely gesture with your hand in the air. I hear you sigh. This is your whole comment on everything your stans post on Tumblr. Mostly your crazy fangirls. You are so ignorant of that, baby. Your friends joke about what they read on the internet about you, and have fun with it, but you are so magnanimous. Your attitude is full of understanding. "They love Elio so much,“ you say simply with the wisdom of a hundred year old man.

Well, I love Elio as well. I love Elio in you, all those qualities you both have and that you recognized immediately in his character, which is so close to you. I just try to keep a distance to what people write about you on the Web. I am ostensibly neutral.

But when you burst out laughing, apparently seeing something funny on the screen, I can’t help but put the book I’m reading away and walk up curiously to the computer. There is a picture of you as Elio with a floral crown on your head. A delicate wreath of wild flowers surrounding your head. It’s a little bizarre, but… I smirk, catching myself in wanton thoughts about how intriguing you would look with your currently longer hair wearing that crown of flowers. So romantic and ethereal. Quite symbolically. Suddenly I realize that floral view is anchored in me, not giving way to any other thoughts. It’s something that increases my desire, removing all logical thoughts. And what I feel now is only pure lust.

I blush at my own thoughts and my heart starts to beat harder and harder. You turn to me and put your hands on my hips. "So, what?” You ask, your eyes scanning the amusement on my face. “What…” you start again, but then your gaze lands back on the picture on the screen, that damn flowery crown, and you already know. "Armie! Nooo,” you laugh aloud, shaking your head as if you want to chide me for such a dirty thought which came to my mind. But I know you well, my boi. You like that idea too. You love it.

*******

The bedroom is semi-dark, the dim light scattered only by a few scented candles. The quivering flames make the shapes of all objects appear slightly blurred and unreal, and the room has a hue of the setting sun.

You are lying on the bed. Your pale skin stands out against the golden satin bedspread. You are completely naked. Well, almost. Because on your head glistens the floral crown with its bursts of colors.

Pastel petals and green leaves tangled with your curly brown hair. Tim… You look like a young god, like an Olympian in a laurel wreath, like a hero in the corona civica.

I’m standing silently in the doorway, my breath hitching in my throat. I just look at you, because the view simply makes me speechless. My arousal makes my legs begin to wobble beneath me.

You laugh, watching my reaction with amusement. You know I can barely take my eyes off you. Particularly in that configuration, with innocent wreath on your hair and your cheekily ready cock pointing at me. You follow my gaze and, no doubt you do it on purpose, you nonchalantly wrap your fingers around your hardness and start to move your hand, your eyes still stuck on mine.

The crooked smile appears on your face when you ask, “Do you like me like this?”

I nod slightly in response, licking my parched lips, and you close your eyes. As your hand moves faster and the floral crown slips from your forehead, I let my robe fall from my shoulders. I’m coming to you, flower boi.


End file.
